


Symbiote

by YinNocturne



Series: Symbiote 'verse [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Stargate SG-1
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Gen, Non-Consensual Body Modification, Not Really Character Death, Other, Telepathic Bond, genetic mutation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-08
Updated: 2016-05-27
Packaged: 2018-02-24 14:08:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 9
Words: 10,669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2584166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YinNocturne/pseuds/YinNocturne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry is pulled into the lake by the Inferi. Sinking to the bottom his body lands in a cave inhabited by an ancient species - the oldest on Earth.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Lake

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: this fic has Harry almost-not-quite die by the hands of the Inferi. His genetic code is then mutated by a symbiote. There are some descriptions of his innards and them not being inside his body. Harry has a panic attack about being underwater, and believes he will drown - he doesn't.
> 
> It seems my recent trend of almost, but not quite killing my main characters seems to be continuing... But fear not, they always survive, even if they're vastly changed!

“Sir?...”

“Sir!?”

“Are you okay?”

“Wait, of course you’re not. I just forced a gallon of an unknown, probably toxic, potion down your throat. I’ll get you some water, Professor Dumbledore.” Without a thought to the potential consequences, Harry grabbed the goblet and dipped it into the moat surrounding the plinth that had held the locket.

The instant the lip of the cup hit the water’s surface it began to boil, writhing with long deceased bodies as the Inferi began to rise to the surface. They surged up, skeletal fingers grasping at Harry’s wrist and arm and swiftly pulled him into the water.

Sharp bone slashed two deep cuts into his abdomen, the pain and the feeling of warm blood gushing into the icy water was the last thing Harry consciously perceived as he sunk down to the bottom. In a last, hindbrain driven struggle for air Harry thrashed himself into a cave too small for the Inferi to venture into. This cave was instead populated by a species far older, but no less strange. These aquatic creatures also acted on instinct, on a set of instructions buried deep in genetics passed down through centuries.

Sensing a warm, live presence the creatures nearest to the cave mouth fought violently with each other to get to the potential host body first. The lucky survivor, missing a chunk out of it’s tail as the price of it’s victory, nosed along the prone form. Looking for a way in, and finding it in the large ‘x’ shaped hole in the body’s abdomen.

Most of the internal organs had already been lost to the Inferi, but the creature pushed out the last of them, leaving only those protected by the ribcage. Confident of it’s new home it began to secrete a thick, viscous fluid that would ensure it’s continued survival. A potent formula of new genetics that would overtake the original genetics of the host form, allowing it to house the creature and strengthening it so that it would survive without some of it’s internal systems.

The new genetic code in the creatures secretions quickly worked on the body of the host, modifying almost all of his current genetics, only leaving a small section of already mutated code untouched. Soon the body took in a shuddering breath, water rushing into newly capable lungs and forcing it’s way out of barely formed gills. It began to heal, skin and bone and muscle knitting together, new cells dividing at a rate far beyond what it had previously been able. But, perhaps the most important changes were being made in the host body’s brain: neural tissue that had been damaged by lack of oxygen was rejuvenated, and new pathways were formed, entire sections and processes created in the spaces between existing paths.

* * *

Harry’s eyes fluttered open, new nictitating lids protecting his now enhanced sight from the water that surrounded him. He quickly shut his eyes again, sure that he was dreaming the watery cave filled with snake like creatures. The brush of scaled bodies along his limbs soon had him opening them again.

Then, he panicked. Because human beings couldn’t breathe under water, not even wizards. Not without out bubble head charms or partial human transfigurations. The second task had taught him that while there were ways around it, humans were still definitely not meant to spend any great length of time underwater.

Limbs flailing out in every direction, scattering the not-snakes that had crowded around him. He desperately held his breath, however, like humans weren’t meant to be underwater for very long, they also couldn’t repress the urge to inhale for very long. Sure that he was going to drown it took Harry an embarrassingly long time to realise that he was breathing water into his lungs and out through his gills. Not unlike the ones that had formed when he’d eaten the gillyweed Dobby had stolen out of Snape’s stores for him.

Lifting a cautious hand to his neck, he pushed a finger against the sore slits. They ached fiercely, unlike those created by gillyweed, pulling his hand up to his eyes he saw the distinct lack of webbing and felt the stirrings of panic well up again. Firmly tamping down his anxiety, he looked around the cave he was in. Presumably, it was somewhere in the moat with the Inferi, who were suspiciously absent.

Instead it was inhabited by hundreds of snake-like creatures, twisting and turning around each other, alternately seeming to play and fight with their fellows. Harry lifted a hand up toward one of the nearer creatures, mesmerised by the rippling of it’s fins. It appeared to noticed his curiousity and fanned it’s fins out to their full span. It began looping around in the water, dancing around his hand. Harry smiled at the display, the creature was beautiful, in a way, it’s rich patterning changing with it’s mood and surrounding. It’s colours brightened as he ran a finger down it’s side.

Suddenly, Harry became aware of a feeling of jealousy and resentment permeating his mind. He’d learnt from Voldemort’s repeated attacks of his mind as he slept what a foreign mind felt like. Yet this presence was even stranger than the twisted mutation that was Voldemort’s mind. It was emotional and impressionistic, no hint of verbal language. Instead there were more nuances of violence and pride and anger than he had ever felt. Somehow Harry could understand every detail perfectly, and he responded without conscious thought. Sending back feelings of ‘don’t worry, it isn’t important’ and swiftly followed it with a strong burst of curiousity.

He received a feeling a great excitement, wonder and pride. The last was dual toned, both directed at Harry and the mind the emotional pulse had come from. Marvelling at the intelligence of the creature communicating with him, he forgot to be alarmed that he wasn’t alone in his mind anymore. His experiences with both Snape and Voldemort had taught him the immense value of mental privacy.

A sharp nip to his outstretched finger brought him back to the present. It seemed the creature in front of him was unimpressed by his distraction. The burst of resentment and anger that came when Harry slid a finger carefully over the fins of the creature made him chuckle. And he sent back a feeling of fondness and it’s okay. It seemed his new mental companion didn’t believe him though, a scaled head poked it’s way out of the gashes in his abdomen and hissed venomously at the creature Harry was absently stroking.

The appearance of this snake coming out of his stomach made Harry reflexively clutch at his guts. He could clearly see the raw wounds and he remembered the feeling of overwhelming pain he’d felt before he’d passed out. It’s okay, don’t worry, safe; the feelings bombarded him, reacting to his blind panic and fear. The snake curled its way around Harry’s hand, undulating slightly as it radiated feelings of warmth, sanctuary, safe. Harry couldn’t help but relax under the soothing onslaught. he’d never felt anything like that before - the bone deep certainty that something cared for him, would feel his pain and do it’s best to reduce it. Partnership, solidarity, togetherness, shared. Harry basked in the feeling of warmth that suffused him, even in the bitter chill of the water. Gratitude, wonder, new, together, strong. He pushed his own feelings down the emotional bond, and soon was lost in a new world of sensation and communication. Familiarising himself with this new, nuanced language of emotions and impressions.

* * *

Harry didn’t know how long he spent, exploring this new connection, communicating with and learning from his new companion. But soon he remembered why he had come to this cave in the beginning. And with that memory came the realisation that he didn’t know what had happened to Dumbledore. Filled with worry for the Headmaster, he began to shift, warily testing out his limbs. He was determined to make it to the surface in one piece. Curiousity, leaving, why. The feelings pushed at the corners of his mind, and he returned with important, precious, injured, need to help, determination and the feeling of land/sky/not water that seemed to represent the world outside the lake. There was no reply for a minute, then determination, willingness, understanding, will help came flooding in.

Buoyed by his companions willingness to support his venture through the Inferi to the surface, Harry stroked his stomach in thanks. He turned to the cave mouth and began to swim. He wasn’t sure how well he’d be able to fight off the Inferi, he didn’t know where his wand was and he was a clumsy swimmer at best of times. He needn’t have worried, as he turned toward the surface, a stream of the snake creatures swarmed out of the cave, holding back the Inferi and leaving him a clear path to the surface. Unthinkingly he sent a pulse of wonder, incredulity and thank them through the bond, he didn’t know if the creature sharing his mind could communicate with anyone else.

It was quickly confirmed that it could, when every one of the snake-like creature turned their head toward Harry as he lingered, just under the surface, and splayed their fins to wave goodbye to him. A helplessly fond smile spread across his face, these creatures who couldn’t communicate with him but in the most rudimentary form. Creatures that hadn’t met him, or even known of his species, until only a few hours ago were better friends to him than any member of the human race that he’d met before. Promising himself he would return to the cave again in the future, and communicating as much to his companion, he broke through the surface; gasping the dank air into his lungs.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry returns to the world above the water.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: major character death here, and then there a dead body that Harry takes with him. 
> 
> I don't think I've ever written this much in one go. Almost 3,000 words in about 4 hours, wow. Thanks to anyone who read chapter 1 and kudos, subscribed etc.

Chapter 2

He only took the time for a few gulping breaths, feeling the water from his lungs gushing out of his gills and over his shoulders. Quickly, but artlessly he struck out toward the centre island. In the dim light he could just see Dumbledore’s slumped figure. Harry prayed that he had just collapsed from exhaustion.

As usual, whatever gods there were ignored Harry’s prayers. When he dragged himself onto the shore to kneel by Dumbledore’s body it became horribly apparent that there was no life left. His eyes were glassy and his face a rictus of pain and terror.

“No.” It was a choked off, bitten out gasp. “You can’t…” He drew in a shuddering breath. “The Wizarding World needs you! You can’t be dead!”

Harry sank back onto his heels, head bowed, “I need you,” it was barely a whisper, an admission that cost him dearly. Tears slid down pale cheeks to mingle with the filthy water of the lake.

Slowly he became aware of the slow waves of caring, don’t hurt, grieve, companionship and the impression of always be here and never alone again. Harry wrapped his arms tight around his sides as his silent tears became outright sobs. The offer of comfort just as much the reason as Dumbledore’s passing.

When his tears had subsided enough for Harry to be able to see clearly, he bent over Dumbledore’s form and gently slid his eyes closed. He carefully laid Dumbledore out on his back and crossed his arms over his chest, curling lax fingers around his wand.

“I’ll see that you get back to Hogwarts for a proper burial, sir. You have my word of that.” With a final glance at the grandfatherly headmaster, he put his grief aside for the moment. He had more pressing matters to deal with - like getting them out of this bloody cave.

Harry looked out at the lake, hoping to see the boat they had ridden across when they first arrived, an unknown span of hours before. When he saw it he cursed, it had drifted over to the other side of the cavern again, and without his wand, Harry had no way of summoning it back to the island.

“Right. Think, Potter.” He exhaled steadily, mind whirling. “Focus, remember the feeling from the Dementors, you managed to cast a wandless lumos then. You can manage a summoning charm now.” Harry muttered under his breath, closing his eyes and emptying his mind of everything but the desire to feel his wand in his hand.

He knew the feel of the smooth, polished wood like he knew his own limbs, and soon enough the phantom presence was replaced by solid wood smacking into his outstretched palm. Harry was relieved that his opening gambit had worked so quickly. And he felt his feelings of accomplishment, satisfaction, elation mirrored back at him, with the addition of pride, mine, through the bond. He pulsed back a quick burst of happiness, before his emotions returned to a more sombre tone.

“Alright, accio boat,” It still amazed Harry what you could do so simply with magic. The boat zoomed toward the island, it’s mooring rope trailing behind it. A subtle twitch of his wand had the boat coming to a gentle halt at the water’s edge, keel dug slightly into the ground.

“I’m sorry about this, Professor,” Harry said, returning his attention to the Headmaster, “But I don’t how else to get you out of this cave. Mobilicorpus.” Carefully, Harry maneuvered Dumbledore’s body into the boat, keeping him two inches above the bench seat. Leaving most of his focus on the spell he was anchoring, he positioned himself at the bow and shoved the boat off the island, taking two steps into the water before jumping in beside Dumbledore’s body.

Before he could worry about getting the small vessel to the other side the moat began to churn slightly, and Harry could see the rippling patina of the creatures from the underwater cave. A small army of the snake-like beings had amassed behind the boat to push it forward, with smaller platoons to the left and right to corral the craft into moving in a straight line.

In almost no time at all they had reached the other side, with the boat once again dug into the ground, only this time in front of the cavern’s exit. Harry stepped out of the boat, careful not to destabilise it too much. Once he had both feet safely on the ground, he pulled Dumbledore’s body up again, floating it out in front of him as he exited the cave. Just before he stepped out into the still black night he turned slightly, pushing a complex mix of emotions through the bond and trusting his companion to pass it on to the rest of his kind in the lake. Harry wanted them to know he would keep his promise, no matter how long it took.

The air outside the cavern was no less dank, the stench of seaweed, dead fish and salt lay heavy in the air. However, the bracingly stiff breeze was a welcome change from the foreboding stillness of the cave. Harry stood, letting the wind ruffle him, dry him out, not noticing that what should have been a bone deep chill, was merely a coolness on his skin. Through the bond he heard an echoey relay of the lake creatures reply anticipating, waiting, surety, promise, trust and he let it fill him with purpose, slowly beginning to fill in the blank space that Dumbledore had once occupied.

Harry exhaled a quick breath before setting off, up the beach toward the top of the cliff. It would no doubt be a long day to follow on from a long night. As first inklings of dawn began to show over the horizon he made his way up the rough, rocky path he had followed Dumbledore down.

Once he reached the top of the cliffs and looked out over the sea in the sluggishly brightening light of dawn, Harry had a moment of realisation. He was a sodden teenager, wearing ripped and filthy clothes, with a corpse hovering by his side. If he took a single step into town, he’d be arrested on sight and Dumbledore wouldn’t get back to Hogwarts. The Headmaster would end up in a muggle morgue and Harry would probably be up for a murder charge faster than he could blink.

The nights events were quickly beginning to catch up with him, but Harry knew he needed to find somewhere to hide, and soon. He weighed his options, but in the end a magically sealed cave was the best bet he had. Even if it was full of magical undead and had to be opened by blood sacrifice. With a sigh, Harry returned back down to the beach, much faster this time in the stronger light.

Safely inside the cave’s entrance he stopped to take stock of his situation. He had Dumbledore’s body to keep safe, that was his top priority. Then he had to keep himself alive, and out of trouble, as much as anyone with the Potter Luck could. But he also had a lot of new friends, who would probably help him if he asked. Harry curled up against the cave wall with Dumbledore laid out near the opposite side and watched the sun rise over the dull countryside of Allhallows, Rochester. He’d need a few hours sleep before he could decide what to do next. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The journey back to Hogwarts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: the usual major character death and dead bodies, there's also a suicide (by an animal not a human) it's not explicitly stated but that's what it is. Harry is also threatened because of his species, but nothing comes of it.
> 
> Many, many thanks to gasacan90 who let themself be dragged into a lengthy conversation about plot and backstory and characters and helped me plot out an entire arc of this story. Without them this chapter would have been far worse.

When Harry woke again the sun was beginning dip below the horizon. As he exited the cave mouth and looked out his eye was caught by the Thames, wending it’s way back inland, and slid to the bright orange glow of the sun through the clouds. It looked like a great ball of fire, slowly sinking it’s way into the Earth. He sat, mesmerised by the light reflecting through the clouds.

“Fawkes!” He cried, “Of course, apparation isn’t the only magical way to travel instantly.” As Harry opened his mouth to repeat his call, with more intent, the phoenix appeared in a flash of fire. Fawkes gazed quizzically at Harry, as if asking why it wasn’t Dumbledore who had called him.

“I’m sorry, Fawkes, I’m so sorry.” He said, as Fawkes flew to Dumbledore’s body. He could only watch as the tears that welled up in the phoenix’s eyes did nothing. The shriek that Fawkes gave, as he hopped back from Dumbledore’s form, was a potent mix of grief, rage and fear. It rang out, louder than anything Harry had ever heard before, and left echoes in his ears as it passed.

“I’m sorry,” Harry said again, reaching a hand out to stroke only the phoenix’s crest. The bird stood stiffly for a moment, before seeming to droop. He pushed his beak into Harry palm once, before he let out another shriek, quieter than the last but no less heart-wrenching.

“Could you take us back to Hogwarts? He deserved to be buried properly.”

Fawkes’s only reply was to hop forward again, and rest his head on Dumbledore’s chest. He let out a soft chirrup, the straightened and nodded once at Harry.

“Drop us outside the castle please, I don’t want to scare the students.” He said softly, and they were gone. Flashing between the Cave and Hogwart’s ground in a fraction of a second. As soon Fawkes had set Harry down, just inside the border of the Forbidden Forest, he flew off toward Hogwarts.

“Wait,” Harry called after him. Fawkes didn’t look back, barreling toward the Astronomy Tower. He could only watch as Fawkes flew into a beam of sickly green light and began to fall back down to the ground. There was something about the phoenix’s determined race to the tower that made Harry think Fawkes had been aiming for that curse.

“No!” Harry ran out onto the lawns, the spell still anchored to him pulling Dumbledore’s body with him. He fell to his knees by Fawkes prone form, Dumbledore’s body settled so his shoulder almost touched Fawkes’s outstretch wing. A sudden green cast over the world made Harry look up, staring at the skull and snake that hovered above the Astronomy Tower.

“Hey! You!” The rough shout from behind spurred Harry into motion. Cutting the thread of magic to the levitation spell, he sprinted back into the Forest. He was pretty sure he could lose his pursuer in the trees.

Harry didn’t stop running until he was so far into the forest he couldn’t see the green light through the trees. He stumbled to halt, breathing hard, and fell against the trunk of an old beech. Quickly, he surveyed his surroundings, eyes darting from shadow to shadow, watching for his pursuer.

The forest was as it always was, it seemed he was the only human intruder. Still, Harry climbed a ways into the branches of the beech, picking a fork that was concealed from the ground but still gave him a decent view of his surroundings. Hopefully he hadn’t ended up near where Aragog’s kin nested.

Even though Harry had slept through the day, as soon as his body settled in the trees branches his mind slid into unconsciousness.

* * *

 “Harry Potter.”

“...”

Swoosh… thunk!

“Gah!”

“Harry Potter. You should not be here. This is centaur lands, those of Hogwarts are not welcome here. Return to the castle at once.” Harry looked down to see the cause of his rude awakening and saw a chestnut centaur. Bane, if his memory was correct. Bane, who had another arrow nocked and aimed right for Harry’s head.

“Right. Right. Of course.” Harry said through a yawn. “Just a moment.” His slip-slid his way back down to the forest floor, and rubbed at his eyes as he looked at Bane.

“I don’t suppose you could point in the direction of the castle. I’m more than a little lost.” The scornful look on the centaur face clearly conveyed his opinion of Harry’s abilities.

“I suppose I should not expect one of your species to be also to use the heavens to navigate themselves. The castle lies to the east of here. I trust I do not have to tell you which was is east.” With that he cantered off, either content to let Harry make his own way out of the forest, or unable to stand being in the presence of such an ignorant human any longer.

“Well, thanks for your help then, oh great centaur!” His retort met empty air, but it still felt good to be able to say it. So many times in the last few years he’d had to keep his mouth shut, pretend that Voldemort hadn’t returned, that Cedric death had just been a tragic accident. Murder is murder, there was nothing accidental about Cedric’s death, and to have to disrespect his memory because of public opinion was never something Harry felt at all comfortable with.

He also knew, though, that sometimes he had to keep quiet, drop his eyes and say ‘Yes, sir. Yes, ma’am.’ so that he would live to see another day. Hopefully a day when could make sure that people remembered what really happened, not the falsities written in the Prophet, or the propaganda from the Death Eaters and the Ministry of Magic alike.

As Harry made his way back to the Castle he hoped he wouldn’t be forced to do the same to Dumbledore as he had to Cedric. He wished that Dumbledore would be respected for all he had done for the Wizarding World, and that his dignity would be maintained. He had little hope though, he knew that reporters like Rita Skeeter were a dime a dozen and wouldn’t rest until they’d explored every possible avenue for scandal and censure. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A conversation with Firenze

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There isn't much by way of warnings for this chapter - Firenze unintentionally harms Harry, but quickly rectifies that.
> 
> The language that is used by the symbiotes is a bastardization of Coptic and ancient Coptic. It's probably gibberish even to people who speak the language. The full translations will be at the end.

The weak light that filtered through the clouds was plenty illumination to see the damage to the castle. Scorch marks and divots standing out in sharp relief, painfully obvious to anyone who had ever been a student at Hogwarts. Harry’s heart clenched at the sight of his true home, the battle that had raged while he’d been gone was clear in it’s effects.

He trudged up to the entrance hall doors, hoping he wouldn’t run into anyone. Harry just wanted to collapse into his four poster in the Gryffindor boys dormitory. Preferably without being interrogated by anyone beforehand. He sighed heavily when his name was called as he walked through the first floor corridors.

“Yes?”

“Harry Potter.”

“Firenze!” Harry startled at the sight of the centaur, he didn’t take Divination anymore, had dropped it after O.W.L’s.

“The walls have eyes, and the doors ears, Harry Potter.” Firenze turned and retreated back into his classroom after that cryptic comment. Leaving Harry to puzzle out the meaning.

Harry stared dumbly after him, not really sure what to make of it. However, as he turned to head toward Gryffindor tower again his eyes were caught by one of the many paintings that lined the walls. ‘Paintings that move, and speak… and often guard doorways.’ With a pleased smile he followed Firenze into the forest like room, happy to have solved another riddle without Hermione having to take over.

“We had thought the sleplip keke were all eliminated. After the moste prrie ih sleplip retreated. Apparently we were wrong.” Firenze looked steadily at Harry for a long moment before his gaze shifted, seeming to bore straight into Harry’s soul. “Masheaneah eavol ha pay mah, ih sleplip. Oe!”

The lake creature’s emotions exploded, mistaken, not like that, apology, other, similar but different to us, and Harry heard ‘me prrie, askios psiki.’ echo inside his mind. He shook his head wildly. He had never heard it speak before, the possibility of another language hadn’t even crossed his mind. ‘anok an pay reeti moste prrie ih sleplip, anok an ih sleplip, anok sleplip keke.’ His confusion must have be easy to read because a soft wave of apology, frustration came from the presence in his mind.

“It is talking to you.” Firenze’s solemn voice brought him back to the present.

“I... think so?” Harry didn’t stop to wonder how Firenze knew that there was something else with him, he was too busy wondering what it was trying to say. “But it isn’t anything I can understand. It sounds like what you saying before, though.”

“I was speaking Coptic, or at least, a very old form of it. Could you relay to me what it was saying?”

“I can try,” Harry paused to collect his thoughts, reaffirming the memory, “The first thing it said was: meh piri, askio piki.”

“That makes very little sense, but it seems to be trying to say something about being a worthy soul and emanating love. Was there anything else?”

“Yeah, much longer. Anok an pay reti moste piri i sleplip. Anok an i sleplip, anok sleplip keke.”

“This is slightly more fluent, but still,” Firenze’s brows furrowed deeply, mouth twisting into a grimace. “It is saying that it is not like the ones that were banished from this world thousands of years ago. That it is a child, that it is not like those my ancestors helped to vanquish.”

“Wait. Wait. There was something on Earth. A forever ago that the Centaur’s are still wary of.”

“Yes. Harry Potter the moste prrie ih sleplip sowed discord wherever they went. They were terrible creatures, and it took many centuries to push them out. An alliance that has never been seen since, between all native magical species was formed. We have stories of dementors fighting beside unicorns, giants beside wizards. Every magical creature left behind their prejudices and feuds because they knew if the moste prrie ih sleplip stayed the balance would be destroyed.”

“But, what were they?” Harry said, after a long, shocked silence.

“They are what the creature that sits in your gut will become.” Firenze’s voice was cold and hard. Harry had never seen a Centaur act like that before and it sent a shiver down his spine. no! not like that, never. The emotions were so strong that Harry double over as pain lanced through his skull, swiftly followed a churning in his gut as the symbiote writhed inside him.

Firenze rushed forward, Harry barely registered the sound of his hooves before he was being shoved up against the classroom wall. Hands pushing his shoulders flush with the cold stone.

“I will not allow you to hurt him.” Firenze’s voice was distorted, as if being heard through water, and then one of the hands moved away from his shoulder. Lightning fast it plunged into his gut and removed the symbiote.

Harry gasped again as his mind was flooded by foreign emotions no, horror, impending doom, apology, desperation, imminent death, mortality.

“No!” Without thinking Harry reached out toward the creature that was wriggling desperately in Firenze’s grasp. His arm hung suspended in the air for but a minute before he collapsed against the wall.

“Harry Potter.”

“Firenze, give them back.” Harry didn’t know how he had managed to decipher anything from the emotional bombardment, but he knew that if he wanted to survive he needed the symbiote inside him once more.

The pallor of his skin, the rasp of his breathing and the shudder pervading his limbs must have convinced the centaur. Harry was rolled onto his back and gently flattened out. Firenze lowered himself to the ground and carefully pushed the symbiote back into the pouch.

* * *

Harry sighed, when he finally reached the Fat Lady, both in relief and consternation. He was so close to his bed, and thus far mercifully unchallenged. The rest of his conversation with Firenze had been no less confusing than it’s beginning. The countering emotions of the symbiote that were always fighting with Firenze’s accounts of the ‘moste prrie ih sleplip’ - the demon snakes, as he had translated - hadn’t helped at all. Harry was too tired. He needed sleep before even beginning to untangle the new mess he was in.

“Is it true?” The whisper startled Harry out of his daze.

“What?”

“Is Dumbledore dead?” Harry was silent for a painful minute before choking out his answer.

“Yes. He is.” He couldn’t look at her, didn’t want to think about it, and he was thankful that she just swung open without bothering to ask him for the password.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations: in order  
> sleplip keke - snake child  
> moste prrie ih sleplip - hate emanating demon snake  
> masheaneah eavol ha pay mah, ih sleplip. Oe - get out of this place, demon snake. Go  
> me prrie, askios psiki - love emanating, worthy soul  
> anok an pay reeti moste prrie ih sleplip, anok an ih sleplip, sleplip keke - I not like (this) hate emanating demon snake, I not demon snake, I snake child.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did not like writing this. I'm not looking forward to writing the next scenes. But it's done now, and I can always edit now I have something to work with. Hopefully this isn't clunky, like I fear it is.

It was too early the next morning when he stumbled down into the Gryffindor common room. Dropping heavily into the armchair closest to the fire and staring blankly into the flames. Ron and Hermione found him later, tear tracks dried on his cheeks, eyes dead.

“You alright mate?” Ron’s voice was hesitant.

“Oh, Ronald, of course he’s not.” Hermione’s voice was sharp, and as she sat in the chair next to Harry she muttered ‘Emotional range of a teaspoon, honestly Ron!’.

Harry blinked at them both. There was something almost wrong about this scene. The normality of it. Ron trying to be sensitive and failing, and Hermione berating him over it. It could have been another other morning in Gryffindor tower that year. But so much had changed, in just one night. Harry was so very different from the last time they’d seen him, not that they’d know it for looking.

“I’m as fine as I ever am, Ron.”  Harry finally replies.

“Do you know what happened? Classes were cancelled yesterday, and there’s rumors all over the castle. They reckon he got hit by a Killing Curse on top of the Astronomy tower, where the Dark Mark went up Tuesday night.”

“Ronald!” Hermione’s voice was like a well-honed blade, and Ron looked at least a little chastened. “You don’t have to tell us Harry. Just know that if you ever want to talk, we’ll be here for you, okay?”

“It’s alright Hermione. I don’t know what happened. We split up when we got back to the castle grounds last night.” He couldn’t tell them he’d killed Dumbledore. He couldn’t. It was better to just let them believe that he was as dependent on rumor to explain what had happened as they were. There were too many things he couldn’t explain about that night.

“Did you get the Horcrux?”

Hermione made a sharp harrumphing noise in the back of her throat and glared at Ron. Harry smiled slightly, no more that twitch at the corners of his lips, those two were the same as ever. Some things would never change it seemed.

“In a matter of speaking.”

“What do you mean, Harry?” Suddenly Hermione’s sharp gaze was focused on him.

“We found a locket. Slytherin’s. But…”

“But what, mate?”

“But it was a fake. Apparently there was defector in Voldemort’s troops by the initials of R.A.B. He left a note in the copy, he knew he was going to his death, said it didn’t matter because Voldemort would be mortal. I don’t think he knew there was more than one.”

“So, is that one Horcrux down, or has it not been destroyed yet?”

“I don’t know.”

Hermione hmmed, fingers twitching for a quill. “I can take a look in the library. They have back issues of the Prophet, we might be able to find someone whose initials match.”

“Worth a shot. But don’t make help, Hermione. You know I hate the library.”

“You just think you allergic to books Ronald. Honestly, all the things you will never know.” As exasperated as Hermione sounded, the undercurrent of fondness was palpable. Harry curls his feet up into the armchair’s cushion and watches them bicker as people trickled out of the dorms.

The Common Room is soon filled with sleepy greetings as people flow on to the Great Hall for breakfast. After about half an hour Hermione turns to him again, and says, “Come on Harry. We ought to get to breakfast. If nothing else, they’ll be making an announcement today.”

Near the end of breakfast, but before the time people usually start trickling out, McGonagall taps a spoon against her glass. The sound cuts through the air in the Great Hall, freezing the students into stillness and silence.

“You have no doubt heard rumors regarding the events of Tuesday evening.  Allow me to lay them to rest.” McGonagall paused, stern gaze sweeping the room. “Many of you are already aware that the Death Eaters breached the castle Tuesday evening. Due to the quick reactions of staff, prefects and a group of older students we were able to secure the safety of younger years. Twenty four students were admitted to the Hospital Wing but Madame Pomfrey has assured me that all of them are expected to make a full recovery and will be returning to their respective dorms in the coming days.” McGonagall’s gazed darted quickly over the Gryffindor sixth years.

“You may also be aware that the Dark Mark went up on the Astronomy Tower that night. The death it marked was the passing of our esteemed Headmaster, Albus Dumbledore. I would ask that everyone now holds a minute of silence to honour his passing.”

McGonagall bowed her head, along with the other occupants of the Head table. Hagrid was muffling sobs into ratty handkerchief, and the other teachers all seemed to be concealing their own grief as best they could.

“We will be holding a memorial tomorrow at noon, on the green before the Black Lake. The general public, Ministry officials and the Aurors will be present. It is not mandatory for students to attend. If you would prefer to remember our Headmaster in another way you are most welcome to. I hope I do not need to say that you are not, under any circumstances, to mock, belittle or otherwise question the way in which any of your fellow students chose to remember Headmaster Dumbledore. If you choose to attend the public ceremony, please remember that your are representing Hogwarts, and thus Headmaster Dumbledore himself, in front of the public.” She shot a particularly hard stare at the Slytherin table.

“Classes will be cancelled again tomorrow, those of you with OWL’s or NEWT’s will find the new schedule in your common rooms on Monday. For all other students, the end of year exams have been postponed, they will maintain the same schedule restarting from Monday. If you need them, the Hospital Wing has full stocks of Draught of Peace, Calming Draught, Sleeping Draught and Dreamless Sleep. That will be all.” With one last sweep of the hall McGonagall sat back down. She seemed to shrink in on herself, as if the weight of bearing such news had exhausted her. 


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry makes his way to the Room. He and the symbiote have their first conversation, of a sort.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is much lighter than the previous one. It' focus is exploring Harry's burgeoning relationship with the symbiote, aided the magic of the Room of Requirement.

There was a hush permeating the castle. After that morning’s announcement, even the Slytherin’s were quiet. But as the day wore one the stillness grew more charged. By lunch people were whispering behind Harry’s back.

“He was with him you know. A fifth year Hufflepuff saw them leaving the castle together. Do you think he knows what happened?”

“Potter ought to know something, being Dumbledore’s favourite and all.”

“Everyone in Gryffindor Tower’s keeping their mouths shut. But they’ve got to know what happened.”

Speculations about his knowledge of the circumstances of Dumbledore’s death followed him incessantly. All through lunch, and Potions and Charms after that. Snape was harsher than usual, acerbic wit directed even at his hallowed Slytherins. Flitwick seemed to have chosen to ignore the whispers collecting in the corners of his classroom.

After the last class, instead of heading to the Great Hall with Hermione and Ron, he headed off towards the seventh floor. When she saw him turn to duck behind the tapestry of Sigrid the Bloody, Hermione elbowed Ron sharply in the ribs.

“Make sure you’re back in the common room before midnight. I’ll wait up to let you in.” She said, grabbing Ron by the elbow to steer him towards the Great Hall. “Come on Ron. You can save Harry a piece of treacle tart from dinner.”

A small half-smile graced Harry’s lips as he watched them go, soon disappearing down the staircase. As he slipped into the dusty passage behind the tapestry he tapped his fingers against the wall. The stone was cool and sandpapery against his fingertips. Heedless of the grime no doubt blackening his fingers, he continue to tap and run his fingers against the wall in a mindless sequence.

The passage twisted and turned on a gentle incline. It was, perhaps, the longest route to the seventh floor, but it was the only one that could guarantee his solitude. Many holidays left to his own devices with the Marauder’s map had Harry more familiar with the castle’s ins and outs that any other. The exit to this particular passage came out behind a suit of armour that seems to have sunk into the stone of the castle walls. The armour had once belonged to Inkeri, according to the map, and it had Parseltongue scrollwork down the greaves. _‘Burning all in wrathful flames, I will hold high my sword. I will cut them down, for a woman is like a dragon on the battlefield.’_ It read, Harry had spent half of Christmas break in fifth year figuring it out. Creative application of inanimate to animate transfiguration, and the loophole in the Restrictions of Underage Sorcery Laws created by Hogwarts Wards.

_Safe now?_

Harry jolted, coming to a sharp halt. _Curious_. Unthinkingly, Harry’s left hand skated over his abdomen. Coming to rest over the place he knew was the centre-point of the crosshatch opening in his torso. Waves of _pleasure, affection, safety, happy, content, curious, inquisitive_ bombarded him.

The symbiote had been quiet, almost unnoticeable, since Firenze had pulled it out the new… womb… in Harry’s body. And Harry had ignored it as best he could, resolutely not looking at the reddened lines that marred his abdomen during his shower that morning. Swiftly covering himself in layers of robes, hiding this new truth even from his own eyes.

But now, with waves of emotion radiating around him, he let himself think. Let himself remember the Cave. Water filled with the sinuously twisting bodies of thousands of snake like creatures. Of water rushing into his lungs, and then safely out of his gills. Of companionship, of affection, of _not alone, safe, love._

‘Askios shbaer.’ The strange words echoed slightly. With a rasping, sibilant edge it should have been alarming. Cold and threatening, given Harry’s history with Parseltongue, and the way that Voldemort spoke it. But instead it felt warm. _Joyous_. Harry could hear a light cheerful melody playing faintly somewhere, and felt a slight vibration underneath his hand; almost as if the creature was singing.

The small smile that found it’s way onto Harry’s lips was truly genuine, pure in it’s emotion, for the first time in a very long while. Harry hummed; a vague approximation of the tune he could only just hear. _Surprise, excitemen_ t. The creature hummed in counterpoint to Harry, weaving a new melody around his own and the one he could still hear, high and sweet, in his ears.

With the music flitting through his ears, and the humming making his fingertips tingle, Harry continued through the passage. The long wide arc sharply cutting around a corner, and marking the exit out onto the seventh floor. A quick glance to either direction confirmed the corridor was empty, and Harry hastily paced in front of the concealed entrance to the Room of Requirement.

Instead of a smaller version of the room the DA had met in all through last year, Harry found himself knee deep in a calm pool. Hanging evergreen boughs just brushing the water near the banks, and smooth river stones covering the bottom. The water was cool, but not unpleasant, so Harry just shucked his shoes off onto the bank, rolled up his trousers and waded back in. _Happiness, contentment, home, alike._

‘Tevt.’ The tone was bright and childlike, even through the guttural hiss, like the scales of the schooling silver fish that were now darting through the shallows. Collecting in Harry’s shadow, and scattering as his fingers disturbed the water.

‘Noub tevt.’ Suddenly there were larger fish swimming sedately through their more lively fellows; bright gold amongst the flickering silver.

“Fish.” Harry murmured. “Tehvet, that is fish.” After all, the Room could create anything, if only one of it’s inhabitants directed it. _Excitement, communication?_

“You’re talking to me. Through the Room. It’s giving you what you ‘require’. Although I don’t know why you require fish…” Harry said, looking down to where he knew the creature lay within him. _Slippery, sparkly, fun, mischievous._

‘Goy.’

“And now I’m standing on a boat.” Harry sighed, but sent back amused, fond, happy. It was more accurately a barge that Harry was standing on. Strong logs lashed together by vines, with a long, straight pole to steer and push with.

Sound like laughter echoed through his head, and the word ‘Shaw,’ announcing the arrival of several large cats. Which, seemingly unconcerned by Harry’s presence, prowled along the banks waiting for an unwary fish to stay in place for too long.

_Happy, proud, excited, joyous, let me show you, exploratory, curiousity._

And Harry laughed, pure like the smile he’d worn in the passage. He, too, started to call out animals by name. The creature echoing the new words back in stumbling English, as Harry repeating it’s own language with an equal lack of finesse. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations in order (the latter one's should be self explanatory, but...)  
> askios shbaer - worthy partner  
> tevt - fish  
> noub tevt - gold fish  
> goy - boat  
> shaw - cat
> 
> As with the previous excerpts of the symbiotes language, this is a mish-mash of ancient (bohairic) coptic and modern coptic, with approximations of pronunciation based on translators shorthand, and the English spellings of a vaguely Greek-like alphabet.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry returns to Gryffindor Tower, and to his reality.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is pretty emotional rollercoaster-y, and the next chapter's only going to be more intense...

A soft chime sounded. High and sweet, warbling slightly as it echoed around the Room. Harry cocked his head.  _ Sound? Curious.  _

Harry hm’d back, brows creasing as the chime repeated, and again. Eleven times in total before falling silent. ‘Oiai, esnav, shomt, efto’ou, etio’ou, so’ou, shashf, eshmeen, psit, miet, meytoiai.’ Harry heard a count in both English and the language the creature spoke echoing in his head. 

“Those are numbers, right?” Harry asked excitedly. “‘O-ay’ is one, and ‘meet-o-ay’ is eleven.”

_ Pleased _ ,  _ correct, learning.  _

Harry laughed, almost giddy with it, until he remembered. “Ah! Hermione said she’d wait up, I need to get back to the Common Room. The Room must have rung that bell as a reminder.” He trailed off, now that he had to leave he felt like his energy had all been drained out. 

Back out there everyone needed him to be something, or someone. The Saviour, the Chosen One, the Boy-Who-Lived. Everyone had expectations, and were prone to being blind to anything else.  _ Protectiveness.  _

Harry smiled softly at the wave of emotion that filled him.  _ Not alone, ours.  _ It was like getting wrapped up in a metaphysical hug. Harry hadn’t felt anything like it since the brief moments he’d had with Sirius in his third year. Before he’d found out about the Order, and the war had truly escalated. As much as Hermione and Ron were his friends, they had still been caught up in it all, the hype and fervour. Now that Sirius was gone, there wasn’t anyone that Harry felt he could truly let go with. 

Harry felt a strange spiralling sensation, centring on the the wound in his abdomen. Startled, he reflexively put a hand over the hatch wounds that marked the opening. “I’m acting like a pregnant women.” He said in a droll voice, before the feeling returning and his attention was drawn once again. 

It felt like… like the creature in his stomach was coiling up, like it was finally comfortable and safe.  _ Safe, safe. Always safe. With you, always.  _

“Oh,” Harry said quietly. “Well.”  _ Happiness, gratitude.  _ He sent back in pulsing waves, soon caught up in the feedback loop. He walked back to the Common Room content. Even having to dodge Filch and Mrs. Norris became somewhat enjoyable. When they turned around a corridor to see Mrs Norris trotting away the creature said ‘Shaw, ntof koui shaw.’ Harry knew what ‘shaw’ meant cat, and given the size of the ones the Room had conjured, he could guess that the rest of  it meant small. 

Harry was chuckling softly still, as he came up to the Fat Lady, who swung open without a word. The pinched look on her face jerked Harry back into reality; Dumbledore was dead. Only a few days had passed, but that didn't absolve him of his guilt. It was his fault, and the deaths that would no doubt result now that the Light was left leaderless would also be on his hands. 

Harry stepped into the Common Room with his shoulders hunched and his eyes glued to the floor beneath his feet. He couldn't bare to look at the cheery red and gold of Gryffindor tower. How could he count himself among the courageous, after what he’d done. 

Harry lost himself in the maelstrom of repressed emotions, not even the steady pulse of  _ loved, not alone, protect, strong  _ coming from the creature who now shared his mind could pull him out of it. 

“Harry.” Hermione called out to him softly. She came over and pressed a soft hand into his shoulder, steering him towards the steps up to the boys dorm. “I just want you to know this, if nothing else, we are behind you. Whatever you need, wherever you're going, we'll be right there with you. Never think you have to be alone in this, Harry Potter.” At the landing outside the sixth year dorm she stopped, and gave him a light shove. “Now go and sleep, you're looking ragged around the edges.” 

She smiled sweetly at him when he turned to look at her, then raised her eyebrows and made a shooing motion as he just stared. 

“Go on.” She said, “I'll see you at breakfast.” And with that she turned and hurried back down towards the Common Room, and the stairs up to the girls dormitory. 

Long after she’d disappeared from sight Harry remained frozen, staring after her. He stayed so still for so long that the creature sent a wave of  _ inquisition, curiousity,  _ and a feeling not unlike a head-tilt. 

“She- She- She-.” Harry took a deep breath. “No one’s ever said that before. That they’d stand beside me.” He said quietly, looking down and biting his lip. “Does she even know what that’s going to mean? She might die, or something worse.” He hunched in on himself, brows furrowing and his hands clenched and unclenched around his elbows. 

_ Protect, strong, comrade, safe. _

“But I can’t, don’t you see. I can’t protect her, just like I couldn’t protect Dumbledore, or Sirius.”

_ Ours, strength, aid, protect, power, not alone.  _

“Still.” Harry shook his head, screwing his eyes shut. “I should go to bed.” He said glumly.

‘Jamh eioue.’ There was an uptilt to strange words, ‘Nouxem ou’ent,’It came again, as though the creature were asking a question.

“I don’t know what you mean, I’m sorry.” Harry murmured, swallowing thickly. 

‘Nouxem ou’ent.’ The words came again, but accompanied this time by a hazy image and the impression of a deep hollow.  _ Safe? Rest? _

“A… safe place.” Harry paused, “Do you mean, where I sleep?” 

‘Ki’te.’  _ Approval. _

“Even you want me to sleep, huh?” Harry huffed softly, “I guess that’s what kih-tey means.” There was the coiling sensation again, like the creature too, was getting ready to rest. 

“Well, who am I to deny you. You saved my life after all.”  _ Of course, ours, protect, always. _

With a bitter smile Harry tread carefully as he walked into the dorm, not wanting to wake anyone up. That one strange conversation with Hermione was enough for one night. Tomorrow - well, tomorrow he’d face the world again. He’d let them see what they wanted, he’d bury himself down deep, let them take what they needed from their Saviour. Tomorrow was Dumbledore’s funeral, they’d come for him, and he would need to be there to atone if nothing else. 


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry meets his new companion face to face for the first time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warning: Body Horror.  
> (More details in the end note)  
> I don't know if I'm being overly conservative, but I thought it better to warn than not.

Harry woke slowly. Gradually becoming aware of warmth, and steady pulse of emotion.  _ Love, protect, care, happiness.  _ He blinked, still fuzzy with sleep, although he couldn’t remember any dreams he may have had. As he shifted under the blankets, a twinge from his stomach jolted him out of the cocoon of physical and emotional warmth. 

A quick glance to check the curtains were pulled tight and he peeled away the layers of blankets and sheets. He’d fallen asleep the night after only shucking his robes, so he could quite clearly see the angry red marks that extended from just below his ribcage to the points of his hipbones. And as he stared the skin started to move, pushing out slightly before falling back to level. It was a slow pattern, like bellows expanding and contracting, like breaths. He sat there, weight back on his elbows, mesmerised, until there was a spiralling sensation. The cuts opened fully, peeling back to reveal a strange snake like creature rising out of his  _ body.  _

Harry screamed. In surprise, in shock, in horror, in terror, he didn’t know. But it did wake the rest of the dorm up.

“You alrigh’ mate?” That was Ron’s voice, muffled through the curtains and rough with sleep. 

“Uh-um. Yeah. Just ah- nightmares.” Harry stuttered, eyes locked on the creature  _ that was inside his body. _

“You-know-how? Or…” Ron trailed off meaningfully.

“Nah, just- memories. I’m fine, Ron.” Harry said softly, knowing that that would get them all to go away. 

“Alright. I’m gonna go have a shower, then breakfast.” There was a thud and a curse, probably Ron running into the end of Seamus’ bed on the way to the showers. 

Harry listened to the usual bangs and crashes of waking up in Gryffindor Tower for all while, but it seemed that the other boys had decided that Ron had worked it out. They were probably well used to being woken up by Harry’s screams after being in the same dorm as him for six years. 

He let out a sigh of relief, but his expression tightened again and he turned back to the - thing - that was now coiled up on his stomach. 

“What are you?” His voice was low and tense, his right hand creeping up towards his wand. 

_ Partner, ours, together.  _ ‘Shbaer.’ 

The response came not in Parseltongue, like he might have expected, but straight into his head. Straight into his mind, sounding just like the creature who had helped him in the Cave, and had played with him in the Room just the night before. 

His grip on his wand loosened. 

‘Oujai ki’te.’ And there was an upward lilt to the words, which were accompanied by a wave of  _ safe, rest, good? _

“Kih-tey. You said that last night, it means sleep, right? But what is ooh-jay?” 

_ Safe, whole, complete.  _ ‘Oujai.’

“Oh, you’re asking if I slept well?” Harry couldn’t hide the wonder in his voice. Harry couldn’t remember the last time someone had really asked about how he’d slept. It was always ‘did you have any nightmares?’ Or ‘did you remember to do your legilimency exercises?’. 

_ Disapproval.  _

“You… you don’t like that?”

_ Others, scorn.  _ ‘Askios, emmon.’

“You, the other people. You don’t like them? Or what they did?”

_ Approval.  _  Then a pause and, ‘Oujai ki’te?’

“Yes, I slept well.” Harry huffed in amusement. It was something indeed, to be scolded by a creature who couldn’t even speak English. 

‘Ingrish.’

“Wait, you can speak English? Or at least, you’re trying to learn…” Harry trailed off.

‘Ra-ahn. Tou’ou.’  _ Knowledge, growing.  _

“Toh-oh. That’s learn, right, and you were trying to say it English! Like I was saying those words in the Room.”

‘Shaw.’ And a feeling of  _ amusement, fun.  _

“That’s ‘cat’. You called Mrs. Norris a small cat, when we were walking back, too!”

_ Tiny, curious.  _ The creature swayed its head above Harry’s body like it was shaking it’s head. 

“Hey, Harry? We’re all heading down to breakfast now.” Neville’s voice penetrated through both the curtains around Harry’s four poster, and the pleasant haze of wonder he’d sunk into interacting with the creature. 

“R-right. I’ll be down soon, Neville, you go on ahead.” Harry called back. 

With the dorm quiet once again, Harry turned his focus back to the snake-like creature that was now coiled on his stomach. 

“What are you?” Harry asked softly, all too conscious that his dorms mates could come racing back up the stairs. 

‘Sleplip keke.’

“Sleh-eh-eh.” Harry groaned, this was going nowhere fast. He needed to learn more, needed the creature to learn more English. 

_ Apologetic, young, learning. _

Harry couldn’t exactly ignore the thrumming undercurrent of sadness now radiating from the creature.  _ It’s okay, will help, learning too.  _ He sent back, and he meant it truly. 

“You need to go back in, though, I have to go to class soon.” He frowned, reaching a tentative hand down. 

The creature surged up to meet his fingertips, butting against them not unlike Crookshanks did to Hermione on the rare occasions he was feeling affectionate. It was warm, and slightly slick, leaving a shiny residue on his fingers in its wake. It was small too, even with all its fins splayed out wide it fit comfortably in the palm of his hand. 

Harry curled his fingers behind the ridge of fringing behind it’s head, and chuckled as it wriggled.  _ Happy, pleased, feels good.  _ Rippling off it in waves of warming sensation, and when Harry twitched his fingers slightly it gave a clicking chirr. He grinned, twitching his fingers again, and again, watching the little thing melt into his hand.

‘Shbaer, me. Me, me, me, me.’  _ Love. _

“Oh.” Harry started, “You- you  _ love _ me? Is that what you’re saying?” He swallowed harshly. 

_ Yes, love, love, love. _

“No. You can’t.” Harry gasped out, “You just can’t. People who love me die, you’re just a tiny little thing, you don’t deserve to die because of me.” 

_ Protect, keep safe, no harm. _

Suddenly the little creature seemed stern and menacing, not at all as small and content as it had been just moments ago. It rose up to stare at Harry, swaying from side to side.  _ Protect, comrade, partner, safe.  _

Harry bit his lip and looked away, “You’d better go back. I have to go down to breakfast now.” He said quietly.

The creature fixed him with an impressive glare for a long minute before sinking gracefully back down. Harry watched is quiet horror as his body opened again to welcome the creature, skin and muscle settling back into place only after the creature was completely tucked away inside. He reached his hand down again, smoothing it over the marks, feeling the slight depressions. He knew that he could reach his hand inside, push it through the centre of the cross-hatch and find a warm, damp cavity with a creature coiled inside. There was a slight pressure against his palm, and  _ love, partner, comrade, protect.  _

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, then took another for good measure. “Breakfast.” He muttered, “Hermione will come up and find me if I don’t show my face.” He looked up to the canopy of his four poster, not really seeing the pattern of red and gold he’d slept under since he was a first year. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Harry is confronted with the reality of just where the Symbiote is living in his body, and for most of this chapter the symbiote is partially outside the pouch in Harry's abdomen.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dumbledore's funeral. Hermione is awesome. Harry hates himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This, I have realised, is the last chapter for arc 1.
> 
> I made it.
> 
> Which means that, hopefully soonish, I'll be uploading the 'full length' versions - we're sitting at three total chapters about 3k each at the moment. With numerous small adjustments that I've picked up over the last months.

The Great Hall was quiet. It wasn’t the same choking silence as yesterday’s: the kind that turned blood to ice and made it hard to breathe. It was just, quiet. It was the, now life has to go on, kind of quiet. The, we haven’t adjusted yet but we will, kind of quiet. Harry hated it.

Dumbledore had just died, their leader was gone, and he was supposed to just accept it and move on. It was because of him, his fault and whatever happened because of it was going to be on his hands.  _ Ours, safe, protect, comrade, strength.  _ ‘Askios shbaer.’

But even that just made him clench his fists, hidden in the folds of his robe, as he made his way to the pocket of Gryffindor sixth years. Harry tried to wipe his emotions off his face as he swung onto the bench, he didn’t want it to catch Hermione’s eye. 

“Morning, Harry.” Hermione said, pushing a goblet of pumpkin juice towards him. “How are feeling?”

“M’fine, Hermione.” He replied, taking a sip for no other reason than to avoid having to say anything more. 

“About what I said last night.” Hermione’s voice was low, but it still cut through the quiet sounds of silverware clinking on plates. “I want you to remember that. But I think you’re still having trouble believing it, so I’m going to keep reminding you until you do.” Her tone was off-handed, but Harry knew her well enough that he could see the fierce resolve in her eyes. 

“Mate, what did you do to get ‘Mione all fired up like that?”

“Honestly, Ronald, don’t chew and speak at the same time, it’s disgusting.” And just like that it could have been any other morning. Hermione and Ron bickering beside him, and the rest of the sixth years rolling their eyes and hiding chuckles in their goblets. 

But good things were a fleeting falsity to Harry Potter, and even as a spark of warmth grew in his chest, he looked up at McGonagall. At the Head Table, and the empty place in the centre. Dumbledore’s throne like chair would never again hold an old man with a long silver beard, and a twinkle in his eye. Harry grit his teeth, and turned back to his breakfast, resolutely choking down a few more mouthfuls. Hermione was already interested enough, he didn’t need her nagging any more, or finding out about the creature in sleeping in his body. 

With no classes to occupy them, the students dispersed back to their Common Rooms or the Library after breakfast finished. There was a sombre cast over everything, and not even the Slytherin’s broke it. Hogwarts’ halls, usually filled with chatter, the sound of hurried footsteps and the general cacophony of children, were eerily quiet. 

Lunch went much the same as breakfast had. When the last plates had been cleared McGonagall stood from her place at the Head Table and tapped once on her goblet.

“If you will follow me out to the Black Lake. There will be representatives of the British Ministry of Magic, and the International Confederation of Wizard, as well as Headmaster Dumbledore’s personal friends and members of the general public. There will be an honour guard of elite Aurors and Hitwizards. I trust that you all will do your utmost to represent Hogwarts and our late Headmaster with pride.” With that, she swept out of the Great Hall, and the figure she cut in the doorway was one the students of Hogwarts would never forget. 

Even the first years were quiet as all the Houses filed off their tables in neat rows, the rest of the faculty vacating the Head Table after them. The walk from the Entrance Hall down to the Black Lake had never felt so long. To Harry, every step felt like a step closer to the gallows.  _ ‘It’s my fault we’re here. I wasn’t strong enough. I let him die.’  _ They followed McGonagall up to the front of the long rows of seats, and watched on as she sent the first years down the second row. Each successive year filling a row after that until it was the sixth years turn. 

Harry found himself between Ron and Hermione, staring into the back of a fifth year Slytherin only identifiable by the green trim on his robe cuffs. He stared resolutely into the space just above the heads of the rows in front.  _ Strength, love, shbaer.  _ Harry shuddered.  _ Askios shbaer.  _

Harry didn’t hear the speeches, the rushing of his blood through his veins drowned out everything. His hands clenched and unclenched around the cuffs of his robes. He felt cold, so cold. Like the cold was a living thing, sucking away great lungfuls of his warmth.  _ Strength, love, comrade.  _ But even the warmth of emotion coming from the creature inside him wasn’t enough. Harry still felt frozen. 

He stayed like that, staring blankly above the crowd, until Hermione nudged him. He blinked quickly, and stood when he saw everyone rising. There was a low beat, and a high, sweet refrain that broke over the congregation as Dumbledore’s coffin was carried by pallbearers through the crowd of seats to the ornate, white marble tomb on the edge of the Forbidden Forest. As the procession passed, witches and wizards took their hats and caps off their heads and placed them over their hearts, leaving a wake of heads bent in remembrance. 

Hermione was sniffling slightly, and he could just hear the splash of her tears dripping onto her robe. Harry’s eyes were bone dry, as if the lake in the Cave has sucked it out of him, like the chill had sucked out his warmth. His hands were clenched around his pointed hat now, the same one he’d thrown at the Leaving Feast in their First Year, after Dumbledore’s last minute points had won them the House Cup. Dumbledore would never get to do that again, meddle, change the game right at the end.  _ ‘Because he’s dead. And I all but killed him myself.’  _

As Dumbledore’s body was laid into the tomb alongside the smaller coffin that held Fawkes, the stone grew up around the caskets, and the last strains of the song that had followed the procession faded out. Along with it, the hush faded too, as if now that Dumbledore’s body had been laid to rest, it was time for the rest of the world to move on as well.  _ ‘How can they forget him so quickly? How can they move on? Don’t they know what will happen now?’  _ Harry couldn’t help but feel disgusted, the Wizarding Public had proven themselves to be fickle and easily blinkered by propaganda, no doubt they would fall prey to whatever not so pretty words the Ministry decided would be the ‘official’ account of recent events. Much like Cedric Diggory’s death had become not a tragedy but a tool.  _ ‘I won’t let them do that to Dumbledore!’ _

Hermione’s elbow found it’s way to his ribs again, more gently than the last time, and when he looked at her he saw her mouth, “Remember. We stand with you.”


End file.
